


i'm dreaming through the hours (i'm counting every second)

by silverfoxflower



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, F/M, Fluff, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-03
Updated: 2014-01-03
Packaged: 2018-01-07 05:56:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1116322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silverfoxflower/pseuds/silverfoxflower
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oral sex, domesticity and a tongue piercing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i'm dreaming through the hours (i'm counting every second)

0400 Eastern Pacific, Mako is startled awake by a pounding at her apartment door. It takes her a second to struggle through her bedcovers, a minute more to slip a sweatshirt over her sleep clothes and wobble towards the living room. Jetlag is a bitch. She hasn’t had a full-night’s sleep since she boarded the red-eye for Tokyo last Thursday. 

Her fatigue feels so civilian, somehow. It’s been two years since she’d last rolled out of bed at the dead of night, the Kaiju alarm ringing in her ear. But it wasn’t something easily forgotten, especially on nights when she awakens from a dream of crunching metal and salt water sloshing through her suit. Mako always has these kinds of dreams when she sleeps apart from Raleigh.

Yawning, she makes her way to the door and unlatches the deadbolt.

The light from the hallway makes her squint, but eventually the blurry shapes in her vision solidify into the Kaidonovskys. Mako summons a tired smile, but it slides off her face when she sees Raleigh’s legs dangling over Aleksis’s shoulder. 

“Mako,” Sasha pulls Mako into a tight hug as her husband lumbers into the apartment. Sasha smells very drunk, and seems very happy about it, her eyes bright in the darkness. “Don’t blame blondie. It was Aleksis who started the first fight.” 

“First?” Mako asks weakly, watching Aleksis dump Raleigh like a sack of potatoes onto the couch. He even dusts his hands off when he’s done. 

“You and us, we must catch up sometime,” Sasha leans forward and kisses Mako’s cheek, leaving a smear of bright red lipstick. Aleksis nods once, definitively, in her direction before they both walk out. 

Mako sighs as she closes the door. There are streaks of mud on the hardwood floor from Aleksis’ boots. She frowns at them for a second, like they are a bad omen. 

A groan comes from the couch. Mako goes to the kitchen and fills a glass full of tap water before walking to where Raleigh is curled, a ball of sweater-covered misery clutching at the armrest. She puts the glass on the coffee table and sinks to her knees beside him. As an afterthought, she flips on the lamp on the side table, filling the room with a warm glow. Their apartment is simple and comfortable, Raleigh’s sweaters draped over the backs of chairs and half-full mugs of tea forgotten on the bookshelves. She had missed it so, so much during her trip. 

Raleigh blinks himself awake from his half-drowsing state when the light turns on. “ _Mako_ ,” a surprised, adoring smile fills his face “You’re back early.” There’s something strange about the way he’s slurring his words, the consonants landing thicker than usual, but Mako doesn’t think too much about it. 

“I wanted to surprise you,” she says fondly, running the back of her knuckles against his cheek. His stubble feels like he hasn’t shaven all week, and there’s a red, puffy area under his left eye that will probably bloom into quite a bruise tomorrow morning. Mako adds a note of censure to her tone, “Although I guess you’ve been keeping yourself busy.” 

Raleigh looks abashed, although he’s still grinning. “Aleksis started it,” he said, his _s_ coming out more like a _th-_ , and Mako’s brow knits. 

“Where are you hurt?” She asks briskly, running her hands down his torso. After years of civilian life, Raleigh’s body has lost that hungry leanness, but it’s still firm beneath her fingers, muscles rippling at her touch. All week, Mako had daydreamed through those boring official speeches about sinking onto Raleigh’s cock and riding him until they were both sweat-slick and breathless. She’s a little resentful that his current condition has shattered her fantasies. 

Raleigh shakes his head on the couch cushion, submitting limply to her ministrations. “’m okay, shoulda seen the other guy though.” He tries to roll over and shuffle closer to her, wincing a little at the sudden movement. “Fuck, I’m not 25 anymore, am I?” 

“I wish you’d remember that _before_ trying to outdrink the Kaidonovskys.” Mako flicks him on the forehead, but Raleigh looks so genuinely crushed that she kisses him too, tasting blood on his lips.

Raleigh grabs for her drunkenly, and she lets him, sprawling half-on, half-off of the couch as he moans like he’s been longing for this just as much as she has. She wonders if he’s been sleeping, or if saltwater has invaded his dreams as well. His mouth opens under hers, hot and slick. His large hand slides down and squeezes her ass and oh if that doesn’t get her every time, the way he _wants_ so organically, the way they curl against each other like in a past life they had been one being, ripped asunder. 

His mouth still faintly tastes of blood. Mako runs her tongue along Raleigh’s inner lip, searching for a cut. Then, something clicks against her teeth. 

She draws back from him so abruptly that she almost flings herself into the coffee table. “Open your mouth,” it comes out a little sharper than she intended, but Raleigh complies immediately, obediently. 

The metal stud punched through the middle of his tongue glints in the lamplight. 

“Oh shit,” Mako whispers.

 

Mako wakes up for the second time to a huffing and nuzzling against her ear. It is Saturday, 1350 Eastern Pacific time, and Raleigh wants morning sex. It’s unclear whether he’s fully awake, but the erection he’s pressing against the back of her thigh sure is. Lazily, Mako rubs her clothed ass against it, playing with little twitches of her hips until Raleigh is panting and mouthing wetly at her nape. 

“Oh Mako, Mako, _Mako_ ,” he mutters deep in his throat, but the words come out with such a strange lisp, Mako can’t stop herself from giggling. 

Raleigh props himself up on an elbow, looking down at Mako with a wounded expression. His hair is sleep-mussed and the area beneath his eye has turned a plum purple. 

“Sorry,” Mako smiles, pulling him on top of her in apology. She loves the heat of him around her, the way he so carefully eases his weight onto her body, cradling her head with his forearms. They kiss chastely, close-mouthed, rough stubble prickling her face as his fingers sneak under her soft tank top and caress the sides of her stomach. Impatient, she reaches down, draws up the edge of her top until it exposes her small breasts to his gaze. 

Normally, Raleigh would be overflowing with praise, words that still make Mako blush pink after all these years. Today, he is silent, eyes dark as he looks his fill. The quiet almost makes it feel like having sex with a stranger, an alarmingly exciting thought that has Mako squirming in her rapidly moistening panties. 

She touches herself because Raleigh doesn’t, raising her chin like a dare as she slides a hand into her pajama bottom. The other plays at her breast, circling her nipple and pinching it gently. They had phone sex while she was away. She’s gotten herself off a hundred times with Raleigh’s voice at her ear, telling her what he wants her to do to him, begging her for it. 

But he’s not talking now, just watching her with a stricken expression, his fingers digging grooves into the mattress. He’s denying himself from touching her, and it makes Mako even hotter, until her hips are pistoning wildly onto her curled fingers, her nails digging into her nipple. Soft gasps and short moans spill from her lips as she drives herself to completion with a luxurious shudder. 

She’s sweaty, overheated and her pants are probably ruined, but Mako thinks it’s the best morning she’s had all month as she watches Raleigh tug her arm out of her waistband and suck her wet fingers into his mouth one by one. She should tell him not to, warn him of infection, but the slip of metal underneath the pads of her fingers makes her pant. 

“Fuck me,” she whispers, scratching the nails of her free hand across his nape. Without a word, he strips off her sleep pants and underwear. 

The first slide of his cock into her wet cunt feels like a homecoming. Mako winds her legs around Raleigh’s waist, her body eager for him even after orgasm. Raleigh fucks her in short, greedy thrusts, deep enough that they both moan with it. He presses his mouth against hers when he comes, and the taste of metal against her tongue makes her come for the second time. 

 

In the bathtub, Mako sits on the cusp of Raleigh’s hipbones, and gives him a careful shave. Raleigh’s eyes are closed, his throat bared for her as he rests his head on the lip of the tub. The amount of trust he gives her, has given her from day one still shakes Mako to her very core sometimes. Other times it smothers her, makes her feel anxious and undeserving. A small child in the face of something larger than understanding. 

She forces her hand not to tremble as she slicks away the last of the shaving cream. 

Mako looks up to see Raleigh staring at her as she swishes the razor in the cooling bathwater. He reaches forward and pushes a piece of hair behind her ear, his expression soft. 

“Does it hurt?” Mako asks, rubbing a thumb over his lip. Raleigh shakes his head but opens his mouth for her. 

The area around the piercing is a little red, but doesn’t look infected. 

“Don’t lie to me,” Mako pokes Raleigh on the cheek. He shrugs and gives her a rueful smile. “Why did you do it?”

Raleigh smiles, then bursts into laughter, his body shaking between her thighs. “I don’ know,” he says, “I do sthupid things when you’re gone.” He overexaggerates the _th_ sound to make Mako laugh. She splashes him. 

“Maybe I shouldn’t be gone so often then,” she says lightly, “To keep you out of trouble.” 

Raleigh smiles like he thinks she doesn’t mean it, pressing a kiss to her shoulder. “Thould I take it ou’?” He asks. 

“I don’t know,” Mako’s face heats as she presses her thumb to Raleigh’s bottom lip, watches him open his mouth for her, easy. “I like it.” 

 

After the bath, they retreat to opposite sides of the living room couch with their laptops. Mako has to field several emails from the research groups she works with, trying to set up a teleconference across five different time zones. Raleigh, she knows, is drafting a grant for the nonprofit he heads that rebuilds Kaiju-devastated parts of the world. He smiles at her as she runs her stockinged feet up and down his thighs, teasing. 

“Don’t you have to give a speech on Monday?” She asks, opening a new tab on her browser and googling “tongue piercing aftercare”. 

Raleigh makes a face. “Well thit.” 

 

They run into the Kaidonovskys at the farmer’s market. Mako didn’t know four months ago, and she still doesn’t know now just how she feels about them moving into the same apartment building as her and Raleigh. Equal parts terrified and bemused, probably. 

Aleksis is sniffing eggplants and Sasha has a deep snarl on her face. They are both wearing dark sunglasses even though it’s cloudy outside and perk up visibly when they see Raleigh and Mako, moving forward greet them like long-lost loved ones with sweeping arm motions and bear hugs. 

“How is the mouth?” Aleksis asks Raleigh, and Sasha pulls him forward by the jaw. They both crowd around Raleigh’s open mouth, making considering noises. 

“I blame you for letting him do this,” Mako says, only half-joking. 

“Oh baby girl,” Sasha says condescendingly, closing Raleigh’s jaw with a snap. “You should have seen the tattoo he wanted to get.” 

Raleigh laughs weakly, making a cutting motion across this throat.

“Your name, very large, in bright blue-“ 

“Anyway,” Aleksis interrupts his wife brightly, “You two will come for dinner tomorrow. We make borscht.” He makes a swirling gesture around his mouth. “Is okay to eat with piercing.” 

“Aleksis is trying to make us vegan,” Sasha says, her expression aggressively dubious. They hand the booth owner money for the eggplant and walk away with smiling goodbyes, cutting a swath through the crowd of young yuppie couples, who scurry out of their way with fear. 

“So.” Mako turns to Raleigh with a big smile.

“They’re just trying to meth with me.” he says, the tops of ears burning bright red. He grabs her hand and they begin walking to the next stall. 

 

That evening, Mako mentally plans out their next month’s menu. Raleigh had been stubborn and _insisted_ on eating pizza for dinner, and she watched him wince through every bite. 

How many different types of soup exist in the world, she wonders, and how fast will it take them to get sick of them all?

 

They slide into bed and reach for each other, nice and familiar. The heat of _I-missed-you_ sex has passed, and Mako is all ready for some tipsy cuddling until Raleigh starts kissing his way down her neck. 

“I want to eat you out,” he whispers, biting at her collarbone, and Mako whimpers, her cunt throbbing between her legs. 

“No,” she says sadly, cradling his jaw. “Not for a month.” 

Raleigh looks as if she stabbed him in the gut. “But-“

“I know,” Mako tugs his hand down between her thighs instead. “We’ll get through this somehow.”

 

There’s a beauty in the human capacity for acclimation. How Mako, for example, acclimated to the Kaidonovskys moving in downstairs and their now-standing weekly dinner date. Thankfully, Raleigh seems to have decided to cut back on boozy nights on the town with them after waking up with a barbell through his tongue. 

Mako is forever thankful it didn’t come to the gigantic tattoo. 

After a couple of weeks, Mako ceases to find the stud alien. The swelling goes down, and Raleigh is able to talk normally again, although the speech he gave with a thick lisp is still a source of great hilarity to all their friends – especially Tendo and Newt who still send him random text messages that say, _”thitizens of Alathka”_ or _”courage of the human rath”_. 

They burn though all the soup recipes they can find and start on smoothies. They get tired of smoothies and eat mashed potatoes for dinner three days in a row. 

Raleigh tapes a calendar to the fridge and begins crossing out days with a red marker. When Mako asks what it’s for, he just winks at her. 

They’re still busy with their lives - research and grants and saving the world, even if it’s no longer from behind the viewscreen of a giant robot. Raleigh wants to adopt a border collie. Mako’s negotiating for a cat, but sometimes she wonders whether “border collie” is code for “baby”.

Stacker flies up from DC for a weekend, and Raleigh spends the entire time trying to hide the piercing, the latest manifestation of his anxiety over Stacker’s approval. Which means that Raleigh ends up mumbling a lot, turning away when he speaks, eating hunched over his plate like he’s afraid it’s going to be taken from him. 

When they drive Stacker to the airport Sunday afternoon, Raleigh is visibly relieved. “I think we did it,” he mouths to Mako as he unloads Stacker’s luggage from the trunk, as if she had any say or hand or interest in his plan. She smiles at him anyways. 

They walk Stacker to his terminal. He and Raleigh shake hands, warmly formal after all these years. He turns to Mako, and they bow to each other before he gives her a tight hug. 

“Tell your boy he looks like a 90’s pop star.” He tells her quietly, before picking up his bags and heading to the security check. 

 

So acclamation, of a sorts. Except for Mako’s new habit of zoning out when Raleigh talks, sometimes, hypnotized by the flash of silver between his lips. 

 

Mako is in a meeting with drift specialists from Germany when the delivery boy comes, knocking impatiently at the glass wall of the conference room. Everyone, of course, turns to look at the messenger and his giant, distracting bouquet of roses. She hears a muffled cough, and a quiet, _”did he cheat on her?”_

“One minute please,” she tells the assembled scientists, her cheeks flaming. When she walks out the door, Newt, god bless his heart, starts bickering with one of the Germans, distracting everyone as she shoves some money at the messenger and walks the flowers to her office. 

There’s a note attached, a large piece of paper folded into a small square. She plucks it off and cradles the bouquet in the crook of her arm as she unfolds it. 

It’s the calendar that was taped to the fridge, every single square ticked off with a red X. 

Mako feels herself flush hot, starting from her cheeks and travelling straight to her-

A knock at her door and then Hermann pops his head inside, “I went ahead and gave everyone an early lunch.” He smiles at her mildly, and Mako very much appreciates it. Newt would’ve held this over her head only forever. 

_”Thank you,”_ she says empathetically. 

Hermann nods, once, and closes the door on his way out. 

 

Mako, predictably, is wrecked for work the rest of the day. She alternates between loving and hating Raleigh from the core of her being, especially the desperate twenty minutes when she contemplates how unprofessional it would be to lock the door and masturbate in her office. 

Precisely five minutes after the flowers arrive, her phone is vibrating off the table with text messages. 

_did you get it?_

_did the flowers come?_

_mako_

_did you get the flowers?_

_i’m gonna call the flower shop_

Out of a petty sense of revenge, she ignores them until the last one. The poor flower shop attendant doesn’t deserve to be collateral damage. 

_Flowers arrived. I will thank you at home._

And her phone is silent for the rest of the day.

 

Once, in their old apartment, Raleigh had attempted romance by lighting a trail of candles from the door to their bedroom (there were also rose petals on the bed and most likely smooth jazz playing the background). However, the first candle had been too close to the door, and when Mako opened it, the whole thing went down like a stack of wax dominos and long story short the sprinkler and fire alarm went off and their anniversary was ruined.

Today, Mako opens the door to find Raleigh waiting for her, shirtless. 

“I changed the bedsheets and ordered a pizza,” he grins. 

_“I love you,”_ Mako says empathetically, tossing aside her bag and launching herself at his body. They meet, lips-first, and he’s so solid that he doesn’t even stagger as he absorbs her weight. She drags him to the bedroom by his belt loops, walking backwards so they wouldn’t have to stop kissing. 

Raleigh keeps making noises whenever their lips disconnect, as if he’s trying to say something. Mako kisses him harder to dispel him of that notion. 

The bedsheets _were_ changed. The smell of lilac detergent fills the air as Mako and Raleigh tumble onto the bed, clumsily pulling at each other’s clothes. Raleigh’s pants are tossed to the corner, his boxers land on the nightstand. Mako’s jacket slips under the bed, her shirt following a second later. Her pantyhose are unceremoniously shredded.

Raleigh slips his hand under her black business skirt to squeeze her bare thighs, a whining sound slipping from between his teeth. “Mako,” he moans as she bites at his bottom lip, “I wanna taste you.” 

She nods, arching her ass off the bed and expecting him to slip off her skirt. Instead, Raleigh winks and ducks under it, and a moment later Mako feels a hot breath against her cunt that makes her squirm. 

“[This is a strange visual],” she pants, not realizing that she had lapsed into Japanese until Raleigh replies in the like. 

”[Maybe I’m just shy],” he says, his voice muffled by the skirt. 

Mako attempts to reply, something appropriately witty, but Raleigh puts his mouth on her, licking her through her cotton panties and she moans instead, her thighs squeezing around his ears as she feels the hard edge of the stud scrape against her clit. At her shudder, Raleigh intensifies his efforts, flicking her sensitive nub with the tip of his tongue then sucking at it gently. 

The crotch of her underwear is soaked – a mixture of saliva and Mako’s own juices. The feel of the moist fabric plastered to the lips of her vulva makes the entire endeavor _dirtier_ , somehow. With an impatient sound, Mako pushes Raleigh’s head away from between her legs and shimmies out of her underwear ungracefully.

Raleigh watches her, kneeling on the edge of the bed where she’d pushed him. His mouth is shiny with _her_ , and when he runs his tongue along his bottom lip, the flash of silver makes her crawl forward and claim his mouth in a kiss. 

It’s brutal this time, tongue and teeth. She pushes Raleigh’s shoulder and he goes down easy, just like he always does, for her. 

“I love you,” he says as she crawls over him, caging him in with her hands and knees. Raleigh is looking up at her, his expression creating a slow, melting sensation inside her stomach. 

“Something about this feels familiar,” She says, a smile splitting her face as she leans down and presses her forehead against his. They will never forget the sea, the crunch of hot metal, the millions who could have died that day, but they will never be haunted by it. Raleigh’s hand finds hers, curls their fingers together and squeezes tight. Then,

“Do you want to sit on my face?” He asks earnestly, and Mako jerks with laughter. 

“If I must,” she replies archly. Mako is still wearing her skirt, a very dignified knee-length piece of black chiffon. Slowly, she crawls over Raleigh’s body, inching towards the headboard. The way he watches her body - eyes raking over her small breasts, her flat stomach, and the one piece of her body hidden from this sight – makes her feel incredibly powerful. When she cannot crawl forward anymore, Mako draws herself up to a seated position. 

Between her thighs, Raleigh is panting already, the chiffon edge of the skirt pooling at his chin. She can hear the wet sound of him fisting his cock, can imagine the hot, red flesh being fisted mercilessly as Raleigh waits for her to expose herself for him.

Fondly, Mako cups the side of his face, petting his cheek with her fingers and pressing two fingers against Raleigh’s bottom lip. He opens his mouth for her, curls his tongue against fingers and draws it into his mouth. She doesn’t turn around as the slick noises intensify, Raleigh’s body starting to shudder with small, aborted movements. 

“[Slow down],” she says, her fingers playing idly with Raleigh’s stud. He makes a whining noise, but his hips stop twitching. 

As a reward, Mako lifts the hem of her skirt to her waist, exposing her mound with its dusting of soft hair. Drawing her fingers out of Raleigh’s mouth with a wet _pop_ , she rubs and spreads herself for him, delicately edging forward until Raleigh’s cherry-red mouth is right under her cunt, until she can feel the heat of his breath against her folds. 

Then, taking controlled breaths, she lowers herself onto Raleigh’s face. The hand she was using to spread herself with grips onto to the headboard, and her other hand joins soon afterward, allowing her skirt to float gracefully downwards to cover Raleigh’s face, curling at his shoulders. She wriggles a little to get settled, the scrape of stubble against her tender flesh a sharp and pleasurable sensation. 

The first swipe of Raleigh’s tongue against the length of her slit makes Mako’s hands tighten, knuckles bone-white against the wooden headboard. His stud drags along her tender flesh, making her squirm and arch, a million sparks of heat racing to her molten core. There’s no room for teasing, nothing delicate about hunger. Mako hangs on for dear life, the rush of exhilaration from being pushed to the edge of her control a physical allegory of the first time she locked into Raleigh’s head, the first time they piloted Lady Danger into battle. 

When Raleigh pushes his tongue inside her, Mako moans in surprised pleasure. The stud presses sweetly against her g-spot and she can’t help the little buck of her hips, or the Japanese swear that rolls from her tongue. She can feel Raleigh’s panting breaths against her thighs, his hand, squeezing her ass an encouraging her to move, so she does, closing her eyes and throwing back her head as the mattress begins to squeak. 

The waistband of her skirt is soaked with sweat, and the bottom is likely soaked with other fluids. It’s dirty, the way it’s covering Raleigh’s face, hiding the way they are connected. Mako’s thighs begin to ache as she raises and lowers herself on Raleigh’s tongue, desperately seeking completion. 

She _feels_ it when his muscles begin to tense, his mouth becoming lax and sloppy as he jerks himself to orgasm. The knowledge that Raleigh is touching himself to the taste of her, along with a final twist of the barbell against her clit, is what makes Mako come, a broken sound spilling from her mouth as her hips jerk helplessly. 

Raleigh squeezes her thigh and laps at her gently until she comes down from the aftershocks. Sighing appreciatively, she wriggles downwards and collapses bonelessly on Raleigh’s shoulder. They breathe, in sync, for a minute. The intimacy after sex always makes Mako starkly aware of the part of her entwined with Raleigh forever, a consequence of the drift. 

He turns his head towards her, their foreheads bumping. “Hey,” he grins, his lips red and _used_ smelling of her. Mako kisses him, slow and sloppy, loving the taste of herself in his mouth, caressing the stud playfully with her lips and tongue. 

“Hey,” she says, smiling, and presses her forehead against his. Under the bedsheet, their fingers entangle. 

It’s 1900 Eastern Pacific, and Mako will have no more nightmares.


End file.
